


A Year Older, a Dozen Orgasms Better

by Gala_and_Elle, gala_apples, theletterelle



Series: Slantverse [34]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Empires, Fall Out Boy, Gym Class Heroes, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Consent Play, Enemas, Fighting, Hypnosis, Multi, Paddling, Piercings, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, School Uniforms, Sensation Play, Sleepy Sex, Truth or Dare, Underage Drinking, Vanilla, Viagra, Whipping, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterelle/pseuds/theletterelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Gabe’s birthday, and this is going to be a party no one will ever forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Year Older, a Dozen Orgasms Better

Gabe’s gotten some sweet presents in his now eighteen years alive. But this one is pretty awesome.

“Yeah, for the duration of the party have sex with whoever you want.” Nate shrugs. “I mean you still have to ask the other doms, you can’t fuck Brendon if Spencer says no. But on our side, a sleepover with monogamy revoked.”

There’s no question that Gabe loves Nate and Victoria. But variety is nice. He’ll never be Mikey, but it’s nice. “That is a great present. You should have wrapped Ryan’s cock.” If no one else, he’s sure Keltie will allow Ryan.

“Keltie did. He’s got three condoms on so he doesn’t come before she wants him to.” Nate waves at Ryan, who crosses his arms and pretends he doesn’t see.

“Hey, happy birthday, motherfucker,” says Carden, coming out of nowhere and clapping Gabe on the back. “Don’t say I never gave you a present.” He presses a bottle into Gabe’s hand. 

Gabe reads the label and raises his eyebrows. “Uh-huh. Yeah, thanks. I don’t think I want you at any more of my parties.”

“Not for you, asswipe,” snorts Carden. He jerks his chin towards Nate. “For him, and Ryan, and whoever else-- that guy Brendon, he’s a sub, right? They take the pills, they stay hard, you do whatever the fuck you wanna do. Let ‘em spit-roast you if you want.”

“You’re a special guy, Mike,” says Gabe. It definitely has interesting possibilities. He smiles. “Thanks.” He turns around to find Spencer and Brendon standing behind him. Spencer is scowling.

“You’re not fucking Brendon,” he says.

“I figured,” says Gabe.

“ _I_ haven’t even done that. No way do you get to.” Spencer takes Brendon’s hand in his. Brendon’s so close to Spencer he’s practically clinging to him.

“First off, I don’t need to know that much about your private life. Second, I get it, dude. Don’t worry, I’m not after his ass anyway.” 

“Okay then.” Spencer gives one last glare. “Just so we understand each other.”

“Settle down, Smith. Here.” Gabe hands him a drink.

Spencer takes it. “Thanks,” he says grudgingly. “Okay, so you’re not allowed to fuck him. But I told him he’s supposed to do what you tell him tonight. Except for--”

“No fucking, _right_ , you don’t have to keep saying it.” Gabe grins. “You’re giving me my own personal Sisky?”

Spencer relaxes. “Exactly. Happy birthday, dude.” Brendon disentangles himself from Spencer and smiles tentatively at Gabe. “Happy birthday. Um, can I get you anything?”

“Yes. Go get one of the bottles of flavoured vodka from my car, and then raid Ryan’s fridge for something you think it would taste good with.”

“Gabe, you know I’ve never drunk, right? So I have no idea if anything would taste good.”

“Go to my car, minion!” It’s fucking fun to say, in part because Victoria and Nate would never put up with that shit. Brendon just looks down and starts quickly for the front door. Gabe laughs for about a minute, then feels bad. His legs are longer than Brendon’s, it doesn’t take long to catch up. “Sorry dude. My subs get a nickname, even if they’re just temporary. I assume you don’t wanna be a pup. You like minion, or-?”

Brendon pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Minion is okay. I mean, whatever you want to call me is okay with me if it’s okay with Spencer.” He gives a tentative smile. “I’m not in trouble, right? I didn’t mean to argue with you, sir. Sometimes I don’t know I’m doing it, and Spencer gets kinda ticked at me, but if you think I’m arguing too much, just tell me to stop, and I’ll totally stop, sir.”

Sir? Gabe raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have to... oh you know what, fuck it, never mind. If you can’t say sir, your head will explode. Fine, I’ll be sir, you be minion. Now bring me my alcohol and a mixer before I have you stripped and shaved.” He smacks Brendon lightly on the ass. Brendon scurries off, and Gabe lopes back inside.

Brendon must have asked someone, because he brings back a bottle of Absolut Citron and half a carton of orange juice that’s only a couple days expired. “Good minion. Mix.” Gabe hands him a cup and sits back, arms folded behind his head. What Brendon hands him isn’t bad, if a little heavy on the juice and light on the vodka. It’s not a problem; they have all night to drink.

It’s a night that’s shaping up pretty well. No one is calling him on having two parties. Hell, half of them have even provided second presents. He’s got his free pass from his crew, Carden brought him little blue pills, Miss Moneybags Keltie bought him a sweet vibe, and Brendon of all people made him a mix cd. Gabe’s got no fucking idea how he did it, there’s no way his crazy ass religious parents let him download Incubus, but the proof is in the jewel case tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. 

It’s also interesting that he’s got a bit of a rearrangement in guests. Gerard’s not here yet, and since all his possible rides are, Gabe’s betting he’s not gonna show. Which is understandable. When he broke up with Bianca it sucked, and it took forever for him to find Victoria and Nate. But Gerard’s friend Lyn-Z is here, and she’s already convinced Pete and Mikey to wear her plaid schoolgirl skirts. Pete looks alright, but Mikey’s legs. Fuck. 

“I’m fucking you against the wall later,” Gabe calls out. He doesn’t care who hears it. To be perfectly honest, he’d probably fuck everyone in the room against the wall. Except Spencer and Brendon, because they’ve got that monogamy thing going on, and he respects that, even if Spencer doesn’t think he does.

Apart from Lyn-z minus Gerard, two invited guests have invited their own. Frank’s got his best abuser with him. Good for him, cause Gabe’s not really in the mood to kick anyone in the balls tonight. And his boy, Travie, has brought one of his friends. It had better be a friend after the whole testing speech William went through yesterday. A friend Travis might fuck tonight, but not past tonight. There’s no way Gabe’s doing that to William.

He gestures to Brendon to make him another drink and crosses to them. The unknown guy is playing DS, Travis watching over his shoulder. “Hey daddy’s boy. Who’s adopting you tomorrow?”

The guy looks up. “You talking to me, man?” He looks over at Travis. “I think this dude is talking to me. Does what he’s saying make any sense to you? Because there’s no way he’s addressing _me_ like that.”

Travis gives Gabe a longsuffering look and sighs. “Gabe. My friend Sashi. One of us.” By which Travis means _dom_ , and also _you fucking dolt._

Whoops. Gabe grins wide. “Sorry, sorry. My mistake. Welcome to the party, dude.”

“Mm-hmm.” Sashi flicks his eyes over Gabe in appraisal and turns his attention back to the DS. 

Well fine, fuck him then. Gabe drapes himself over Travis, who’s possibly the only guy in town taller than he is. “It’s my birthday, so where’s my present? Presents are required.”

“It’s your third party in less than a month,” Travis points out. “I gave you presents at the other two. And I threw one of them. I spent all the next day cleaning up after your sorry asses.”

“Irrelevant,” says Gabe. “It’s my birthday, and if you have no present for me, you’ll have to take my birthday spanking. Ray’s warming up right now.” Ray is actually doing no such thing, but Gabe figures it’s only a matter of time.

“Boy, you better go sit down before I knock you down,” says Travis, messing with Gabe’s hair and pushing him away. “Act like a civilized human, and you might get a present from me. Might.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, but leaves. Only so he can clamber up onto the couch, one foot on the floral arm, legs splayed so the other is on the top of the backrest. He’s opening his mouth to shout for attention when his foot slips and he nearly does a faceplant. Clinging to the wide frame of the mirror is the only thing that stops him from going down. He changes his mind. “Minion!”

Brendon rushes over. “Yessir?”

“Just stand there.” Brendon’s head makes a great support. Better than that, Brendon is a support that has a full mixed drink in hand. 

Gabe takes a chug, hands the cup back and this time successfully calls “Guys! Everyone fucking gather! We have a serious dilemma on hand!”

“Fucking drama queen.”

“I _heard_ that, Carden. If you weren’t a dom you’d get first birthday spanking. Now guys. Seriously. Do we eat the cake I know Sisky smuggled in even though Frank was trying to distract me, or do we play truth or dare? Our futures may depend on it!”

“Gabe, you asshole,” says Victoria, throwing an empty cup at his head. “You could have at least pretended not to notice. And why are you using Brendon as a railing?”

“That sounds like a truth or dare vote to me,” says Gabe. He looks down at Brendon. “What say you, railing?”

“Truth or dare,” says Brendon promptly. “Then we eat cake in the middle.”

“I vote cake,” says Jon. “Because it’s cake.”

“Truth or dare AND cake!” yells Frank. He yells it again when Mikey starts talking. Matt smacks him upside the head. “Truth or dare and cake, truth or dare and cake,” Frank chants, undaunted.

“Oh, fuck it,” says Pete. “We sang Happy Birthday at the last party. Sisky, haul out the cake. Whoever wants some can have some now, and whoever wants it later can have it later.”

That works for everyone, most of whom grab pieces of cake before rearranging themselves on the floor or the sofa. Gabe slides down to sit on the backrest with his feet on the cushion. “Right. It’s my birthday, so I get to go first. Hmmm...” He surveys the group. “Butcher. Truth or dare?”

“I’m too sober for a dare.”

“Sounds good to me.” Personally he’d rather make the drunk people tell truths, they’re always funnier that way, but he can save the juicy shit for later. Gabe thinks for a second before asking “Tell me about the best body mod you can think of. Wax fucking melodic.”

Butcher snorts. “That’s hardly a shocking truth question, but whatever. Tattoos, obviously. I have all these ideas, I think by the time I’m thirty I’ll be entirely covered. But big, important pieces, not patchwork. Like I want to get a koi fish down the entire back half of my body. Neck to fucking ankles, all koi. It’ll be _great_.”

“Sorry, gotta disagree.” Gabe’s not the only one to look over at Frank. He looks semi serious though, not like he’s trying to start shit to get a beating from his boyfriend. “I mean not about the it’ll look great thing, I’m sure you’ll get a great artist. But patchwork is totally the way to go. I want a tattoo for every important thing in my life, and I love my fucking life. Last count was like fifteen things I want to immortalise.”

“I think I just want something musical.” 

It’s the shock more than anything that takes Gabe a second to place Brendon as the speaker. He’s not the only one. Spencer turns to look at his sub. “You’re into body mod?”

“Not like that. Just. I really like playing, and I want something to show on my skin, you know?”

“What do you play?” Pete asks.

“Um. Lots of stuff? Guitar, piano, drums, accordion, violin, cello, trumpet.”

“Damn kid, you’re impressive. Never woulda guessed.”

"What, that I'm a music geek, or that I want a tattoo?" Brendon hands Gabe the cup at his gesture.

Pete looks like he's trying to think of something to say that won't make Brendon sound hopelessly uncool. Frank has no such qualms. "The tatt. No offense dude, but you're not exactly the poster kid for hardcore."

Jon speaks up from his spot on the floor. "You do know that Brendon almost killed himself doing autoerotic asphyxiation, right?"

"Holy shit," says Ray. "That was you?"

Brendon squirms a little at suddenly being the center of attention. He shrugs. His grin looks nervous. "I didn't really have a lot of options.” He looks at Gabe for rescue. 

"Butcher, it's still your turn," says Gabe. "Koi down your back, anything on the front? Belly scales? Implanted fins and gills?”

“No. It’s not an animal play thing, it’s just. Fuck off, assface,” he glares for a second as Gabe starts giggling. “Conrad, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to stroke Carden until he gets hard.”

Over the sound of two boys asking “What?” incredulously, Gabe snorts, smiles, and finishes his drink, in that order. He puts his cup on the carpet and watches with glee. After a second Sisky stretches out his leg and kicks Brendon’s foot. It takes him a minute to realise what Sisky means by it and pick up the cup. 

“Okay, and for being a bad fucking sport about it, touch Carden until he’s hard and then for three minutes after.”

“You can’t do that!” Tom slowly turns his head, pleading with the room. “You can’t add extra onto a dare after the first statement, right?”

“It’s my birthday, so I’ll be the judge.” Gabe pretends to think for a second. “I’ll...allow it. Get to rubbing.”

While Brendon sneaks behind Conrad to get Gabe another drink, Carden leans back and smirks. "You heard the man. Let's see how good you can make me feel."

"I will rip your throat out with my fingernails. That should feel pretty fucking great." Conrad scowls, pushes up Carden's shirt, and runs a finger down his stomach.

"He didn't say tickle him," calls Gabe. "Gentle touches. _Erotic_ touches."

"Imagine I'm your mom," says Carden.

Conrad looks like he'd cheerfully murder both Carden and Gabe, but he slides the flat of his palm up Carden's chest and strokes each nipple in turn. He tweaks one, and rather than flinch, Carden lets his head fall back. Conrad gives a not very nice smile and does it again. Carden makes a tiny noise, and his tight jeans make his growing erection pretty obvious. 

"Start timing," growls Conrad to Butcher, and bends his head to lick up Carden's belly. When he gets to the chest, Carden stifles a moan. "That's right. Yeah. There you go, bitch."

There's one second of silence, and then Carden _yells._ "Motherfuck! Jesus, get the fuck off--"

Conrad sinks his teeth deeper into Carden's chest. Carden whacks him on the side of the head repeatedly until he lets go. "You fucking psycho," Carden shouts, and twists around to knee him in the balls. He misses, but his momentum puts him on top of Conrad for a second, until Conrad bucks and throws him off.

"Carden!" cheers Pete, while "Conrad!" cheers Mikey. Lyn-Z is shaking her head and grinning, Jon is watching with avid interest, and Gabe is on the floor laughing hysterically.

Carden crouches on his knees. "You are so fucking dead, you hear me?"

"I'll screw your mom on your grave," says Conrad. "Promise."

They lunge at each other, scattering empty cups and plastic forks, and there's a loud crash as they fall to the floor again. Conrad shoves a piece of birthday cake into Carden's face, while Carden tries to use his weight to force Conrad onto his back. "I'll show you who's the bitch here," gasps Conrad. 

"You are, _bitch_." Carden smears icing off his face and gets a hand around Conrad's throat. "Say it. Say it!"

"Fuck you," croaks Conrad, and lashes out with a backfist that rings off the side of Carden's head. Carden falls over, but before Conrad can press his advantage, a gout of water splashes over both of them, and they freeze in shock.

"That's enough," says Keltie, bucket in hand, and though her voice isn't loud, it's clear she means it. "Sit down and quit being so dramatic. You're worse than a pack of twelve-year-old girls."

Gabe sits up. "That was _awesome._ A birthday wish come true! Minion! Pour the champions a drink!"

As Brendon is pouring, Conrad turns to Sisky. “Truth or dare?”

Pete interrupts “Sisky will do whatever dare, if he chooses that. No trying to bitch out like you did.”

“Pete, you wanna go? Because I-”

“Both of you, shut up. Now.” It’s fascinating to see a third of the room shrink under the sternness in Keltie’s voice. Conrad doesn’t shrink, but he shuts up and that’s enough.

“Truth, actually.”

“Okay, fine. What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“Police officer.”

Gabe’s eyebrows arch, and a quick scan shows he’s hardly the only one. Yeah, people are not only their slant, but it really doesn’t fit with Sisky’s personality.

“Uh, if you’re not really a sub you should let Pete know,” Victoria suggests. Both Pete and Sisky seem offended by the accusation, but it seems like valid advice to Gabe.

“Excuse me? I don’t understand?”

“Dude, you’re a sub. If you’re a cop you’re ordering people around all day.”

He shakes his head vigorously, hair flying. “No. They have a massive rulebook, and they have to follow all the rules. And they have to because they're helping people. It's their job to make the bad stop and the good continue. Cops are like the definition of service subs.”

Gabe doesn’t see it. There’s authority in being a police officer, and subs and authority don’t tend to mix. But talking about it more would officially put it into debate, and points and counterpoints are not on the menu for tonight. Instead he grins and asks “Anyone got a billyclub? I wanna go down on Officer Siska.”

Sisky looks startled, and glances at Pete. Pete raises his eyebrows. “What? Dude, you’re allowed. Just cause we don’t fuck doesn’t mean you never get to get any.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Sisky’s mouth. He leans back on his elbows. “I’m still gonna write you speeding tickets. I’ve seen the way you dri-- oh, holy _shit_.”

Gabe hasn’t given a blowjob in a while, but it’s not a skill you forget. He pulls back slowly, then sucks Sisky’s cock back in and cups his balls at the same time. “Gah-had,” Sisky groans above him. Gabe swirls his tongue around and wonders when the last time was that Sisky got blown. He wonders if Sisky’s _ever_ gotten blown. Pete has him slotted into a “Service” position, and as far as Gabe knows, they’ve never gotten into it.

“I can’t--” Sisky’s stuttering and stiff with the effort of holding back. “Don’t--” It’s pretty damn quick, but if Gabe’s suspicions are right, Sisky’s got months of pent-up sexual frustration driving him. Sisky tugs at his hair. “I’m gonna--”

Gabe ignores him and sucks down his cock until it almost touches the back of his throat. Sisky spasms, and there’s a jet of warmth in Gabe’s mouth. He considers swallowing, but he’s not feeling it, so when Sisky stops shaking, he pulls off and spits into someone’s beer.

“Hey,” says Chiz.

Gabe works his jaw. “Minion, get him another beer.”

Sisky looks around the room, pulling his borrowed skirt back down. “Ryan, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Gabe frowns. “Seriously, the next person better pick a dare. I want someone jumping off Ryan’s garage onto a trampoline or something.” It’s not a good party until someone sprains something. 

“Give us your best unfulfilled fantasy. Details are loved. No one wants to get bored.”

“Well, basically Keltie decides she wants to share me. She puts on a cockring and has me lay on my back. I think I’m gonna have half a dozen girls ride me. None of them would be as good as Keltie, of course, but it doesn’t matter if I’m having any pleasure because I’m just a toy to share. Except when she opens the door it’s a line of guys. She only put me on my back so I can see how many men are staring at me, wanting to use me.”

Carden nods. “Nice. Not overly detailed, but I think your hard on says what your mouth didn’t.”

Mikey talks over Carden’s chuckling. “I’ve had a few gangbangs.”

“Is there anything you haven’t had?”

“If you really wanna know, Nate, ask when it’s your turn. Anyway I recommend it, if Keltie’s up for it. The more guys the better, really.”

“I’d settle for just one guy fucking me,” Frank bitches.

It’s on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but Ray says it first. “You mean you and Matt haven’t?”

“No. I dunno why not. Maybe he can’t get hard for my ass.”

Depending on definition he’s either setting Frank up for success or failure. Some people, the _Gerardy_ type of people would think it’s failure, but Gabe sees it as setting the chance for a scene Frank wants. “Matt, Carden gave me some viagra if you need it.”

Everyone in the room can see Matt pull out the dom aspect of his personality. It’s kind of hot. “Maybe your ass isn’t good enough for me, Frankie boy.”

Frank snorts. “An ass like this? You dream of asses like this, and wake up covered in your own spunk.” He stretches out full length on the floor and rolls over. “Maybe that’s why you don’t try to touch me. Afraid you’ll come too soon?”

Matt’s smile isn’t nice, not at all. “Maybe your ass doesn’t deserve my cock. Maybe I’m gonna wait till you kneel down and beg for me to fuck you hard.”

“Never gonna happen,” says Frank. “You want it, you gotta come get it. If you can.”

Matt stands up and looms over Frank. Frank tries to scramble up, but Matt sets a foot on his back and pushes him back down. “Frank. Truth or dare.”

“It’s not your fucking turn!” Frank protests.

“Truth. Or. Dare.” Matt grinds his foot into the muscle under Frank’s shoulderblade.

“Ow! Okay, fine, truth. Asshole.”

Matt bends down and pulls Frank’s head up by his hair. “You’re going to like what we’re about to do, aren’t you?”

“What--” Frank starts, and then yells as Matt yanks his wrists together and forces his arms up behind his back. He thrashes with his feet and manages to kick Matt behind the knee. Matt staggers. “Little help, someone?” he calls.

Travie’s right there, a hand on each of Frank’s ankles. “Under control,” he says. “Where do you want to take him?”

“Not sure yet.” Matt’s breathing hard. “Hey,” he says, shaking Frank’s head. “Maybe your ass is as filthy as your mouth. Why the hell would I want to stick my dick into something like that?”

“Fuck your mother and piss on her tits,” spits Frank. Matt just laughs and lets Frank’s head drop. “See?” he asks the room at large. 

“You know,” says Keltie, “when Ryan’s dirty? I clean him.”

“A bath?” asks Gabe. He’s pretty sure it’s not a bath. Keltie rolls her eyes at him. “Clean him _out_ , stupid.”

“Hey,” protests Ryan. He’s quelled by Keltie’s glare. “Um, nothing.”

“Frank kicks a lot,” says Keltie. “You probably want the bathtub.”

“Oh FUCK NO,” yells Frank. Matt grins. “Hey Trav, help me carry him.”

They get Frank into the bathroom and strip him. Travis gets an elbow in the eye, and Matt has to slap Frank when he bites him. They dump him in the tub and hold him there. Keltie’s sitting on the counter, with Ryan beside her. “Hmm,” she says. “Ryan, go get your enema bag. And a sterilized nozzle.”

Ryan blushes but obeys, pushing past Jon, who’s standing in the doorway watching with heavy-lidded eyes and a contemplative smile. Gabe peers over his shoulder. Frank squirms. “I am going to beat your fucking ass,” he says to Matt. “I’m gonna come at you out of nowhere and take you the fuck _down_.”

“You can try,” says Matt pleasantly. “You’ll fail.” He pushes Frank’s face into the porcelain. “Maybe cleaning out your ass will clean up your mouth too.”

Ryan squeezes back in carrying a bright red rubber bag and a length of tubing in one hand, a plastic ziplock bag in the other. “This isn’t really mine,” he tries to explain.

“Shut up, bitch,” says Keltie dismissively. “Fill it. Not too hot. No soap, but add a little peppermint oil so he’s minty fresh.”

“I hate you,” Frank growls against the drain.

“I think you’d better be more respectful,” says Keltie. “Tell him, Ryan.”

Ryan’s mouth twitches. “She’s not kidding,” he says to Frank. “You would be astounded at the amount of liquid the human body can hold.”

The tap runs for a minute, a soothing counterpoint to Frank’s continued swearing. Ryan passes the bag to Matt, who’s grinning enough that Frank has to be able to hear it in his voice. “I know you’re going to struggle because you just don’t learn. But I’m a nice dom, so I’m giving you a choice. Do you want me to hold you down and Travis to funnel all this water into your ass? Or do you want me to do it, and Travis can hold you?”

“Fuck you both.”

“Or Keltie can do it. She has experience. She might not even find you as goddamn disgusting as I do right now.”

“Give me some credit Matt. I have taste.”

Gabe’s never given someone an enema. It isn’t Nate or Victoria’s thing, though he could probably swing a suppository into puppyplay if he really wanted to. Or he could get in on this. Matt’s clearly welcoming help, and he’s got a birthday pass. For once though he thinks Jon has the right idea. He can feel Walker’s arm moving as he slowly starts to jerk off. Better to watch than to get an elbow in the gut the way Travis just did. They’re both on the bathtub rim, Travis arching to hold Frank. When Matt slips in the nozzle it starts a fresh round of swearing.

“You know what? No.” Before anyone has a chance to ask what he’s doing, Travis grabs a toothbrush from the sink and puts it in Frank’s hand. Then he shoves all four fingers of his left hand in Frank’s mouth. “Drop it if you need to. But shut the fuck up.”

“Keltie, that’s _my_ toothbrush.”

“Shut up.”

“You bite down on Travie’s hand,” says Matt, “and I swear to God I’ll make you take this whole bag, and then I’ll refill it and you’ll take it again. If you don’t want that, you behave yourself.”

Frank grunts, but doesn’t bite. Matt looks up at Keltie. “How does this part work?”

“You have to squeeze the pump.” Keltie points at the plastic bulb dangling off the nozzle. “Only a couple times, though. That’ll inflate it enough to hold everything in, and it could hurt him if you pump it more.”

Matt squeezes, and Frank groans behind Travis’s hand. “There,” says Keltie, satisfied.

Gabe really isn’t into bodily functions in and of themselves, but seeing Frank pinned down and gagged, knowing how hard he’s gotta be... Well, Gabe’s balls aren’t made of stone, after all. He unzips his jeans and pulls his dick out through the fly of his boxers. This is why he likes boxers. He strokes himself with a couple of fingers and his thumb, and each growl from Frank makes his balls tighten.

It’s good enough as it is. It gets better when the bag is empty and Matt says “It’s your lucky day. I’m giving you a way out. If you can make yourself come in the next five minutes I’ll tell everyone to leave. If you can’t, you’ll keep all that in for however long Keltie recommends, and then I’ll pull the plug out and everyone will watch you lose control.”

At that Ryan gives a low moan. Gabe spares a second to look at Keltie. He can’t help but wonder if this is giving her ideas. He nearly misses Travis help Frank roll on his side. From the look on his face, Gabe would have to guess it feels weird as hell. It doesn’t stop Frank from curling a hand around his dick and going at it. He’s flushed all over. Gabe can see what Matt sees in him, at least physically. His slant would drive him insane.

Frank’s jerking faster and faster, face screwed around Travis’ fingers. The problem is obvious, but Gabe’s not going to interrupt. It’s his birthday, not his relationship. Matt either catches on or decides to do something about it. He leans over and slaps Frank’s chest. It’s enough for him, come pouring over his fingers. In front of Gabe Jon nearly drops to his knees with his own triggered orgasm. Keltie grins and tosses a spare roll of toilet paper at Jon. Gabe catches it for him, guessing that he probably doesn’t have the coordination for it. He thinks for a second about speeding his own hand and finishing before Matt kicks them out, but doesn’t. Better to have sex with someone in the living room.

He tucks his dick back in as Matt orders them to leave, wincing at the feel of flannel sticking to the precome. He doesn’t do up his zipper, it would only make things worse. To his surprise Matt follows behind them a second later. Apparently Frank’s getting total privacy.

“Frank’s gonna be a minute,” Matt announces to the room. “Ryan, it’s your turn to ask, we sort of railroaded you. Sorry.”

Before Ryan can open his mouth, Gabe speaks up. “You gonna fuck him when he’s done?”

“Dunno. It’s up to him, really. We haven’t talked about it. Not really.”

“You haven’t talked about-”

“Oh come on. You’ve all known him longer than I have. Is Frank the kind of guy that talks out his wants and needs? You saw our version of testing.”

Gabe can see the way both Spencer and Travis’s friend are bristling. Gabe didn’t have a long testing period with Victoria and Nate, but he doesn’t look down on the concept either. Still, he doesn’t really want to get in a deep conversation about trust and relationships right now. Thankfully Ryan captures everyone’s focus by asking “Is anyone tonight gonna take a dare? Who wants a dare?”

Ray raises his hand. “What the hell, let’s get it over with. Dare.”

Ryan ponders him for a second. “I dare you to... make me a sandwich.”

Ray starts to get up, then-- “Wait, what?”

“That’s the lamest dare ever,” says Spencer.

Ryan shrugs. “When else can I order a dom to make me a sandwich? Oh, chips too. I would like some chips.”

“Lamest _ever_ ,” says Spencer as Ray goes into the kitchen.

“I want a sandwich too,” calls Gabe after him. “I’m getting hungry. And it’s my birthday. Also, anyone wanna get on my dick? Because that would be great.”

There’s a general laugh, then Mikey stands up. His skirt is meant to come to mid-thigh, but Mikey’s legs are longer than the girls that this was made for, and it stops just under his ass. Gabe grins. “I did say I was gonna fuck you against the wall, didn’t I? C’mere.” He takes Mikey by the wrist and drags him over. Mikey comes willingly.

Gabe traps Mikey, flattening him against the wall with his body, and tugs his boxers back down. He bends his head down and nuzzles against Mikey’s neck, then bites. Mikey sighs a little bit and sags back against him. Gabe flips up Mikey’s skirt-- God, Mikey Way in a skirt is indecently hot-- and presses his dick against his ass. “Ready?” he asks. Mikey nods. One thing about him, he’s almost always prepped.

Gabe shoves in, and the tight heat around his cock makes him moan in relief. Mikey pushes back, taking Gabe’s cock in as deep as it’ll go. Gabe sets up a steady rhythm, pounding Mikey against the wall so hard his breath puffs out at each thrust. It’s not often he goes for straight vanilla sex, but as Gerard would no doubt remind him, vanilla is no less valid a flavor than any other. Although Gerard probably wouldn’t remind him of that when Gabe is in his brother’s ass at the time.

Mikey bounces off the wall and slams back against him, panting quietly. Gabe takes hold of Mikey’s hips and keeps him anchored in place. He pushes the skirt up in front so he can reach Mikey’s cock. Mikey doesn’t make a sound, but he breathes faster and reaches back to grasp Gabe’s shoulders.

Gabe tries to hold on and make it last, but all too soon he’s coming inside Mikey, jamming his cock as far in as it’ll go. Mikey takes it, and a few seconds later, he shudders and spurts all over Gabe’s fist. 

“Yeah,” says Gabe when he can talk without his voice cracking. “Happy birthday to me.”

Mikey wipes the come off his body with his skirt. “I’ll wash it,” he says, looking over at LynZ. She’s not paying attention. She’s sitting in the corner with her legs splayed and her skirt hiked up, eyes unfocused as her hand works between her thighs. Gabe watches for a minute, it’s a pretty sight. Then Ray comes in, a plate with a sandwich and scattered potato chips in one hand.

“Where’s mine?”

Ray raises an eyebrow. “You’re not my dom, and you weren’t my darer. Make one your own damn self.”

“Ryan, gimme half of yours.”

“Fuck off!”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Dude, you have two service subs in the room. I’m eating my fucking sandwich.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and nudges Brendon. While he stands Ray turns to Travis and new guy, who’s _still_ playing DS. It takes a cold dude to sit through Mikey Way getting fucked. He’s blown two out of three chances, as far as Gabe’s concerned. “You’re Disashi, right? I think you’re in my woods class.”

“Sashi. Yeah. Your table’s going pretty well, so far.”

“Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.”

Thankfully Ray goes the same route Sisky did. “Gimme a sci-fi fantasy. Something that’ll never happen, like time travelling to dom Shakespeare, or watching Helen of Troy order a thousand ships of submissives.”

“Easy. Cloning. I’d totally fuck myself.”

“Wouldn’t your clone be a dom too?” Carden asks.

“You can be a dom and still get fucked. Unless you think Keltie is a sub?” There’s a sort of communal snort. Keltie’s probably one of the most typical dominants in the group. “I don’t have anyone right now, but I’d go either way, as long as I’m getting off. Travie, truth or-” He gets cut off as Frank comes barrelling out of the bathroom.

“You are so not fucking me tonight.”

Matt blinks, and flushes a bit when he realises half the doms are watching him intensely to make sure he reacts properly. As far as Gabe’s concerned, Matt’s just lucky Gerard isn’t here tonight. He’s got dom issues. Although after Pedicone it’s sort of hard to blame him. Once he makes sure things between Travis and William work out, he’ll start combing his contacts for someone good for flakey, artsy, often greasy boys. “Uh, okay? You got that the toothbrush was a physical safeword, right? Cause I never would have-”

Frank headbutts Matt lightly. “Shuddap, I know that. I already came. You should have gotten off with me. Now I don’t give a shit. Try again tomorrow.”

Yeah, Frank is definitely not Gabe’s style of sub. He reaches out and ruffles Nate’s hair, just because. Nate rumbles and leans into Gabe’s hand.

“You don’t give a shit because there’s none inside you left to give,” says Jon with a smirk. Frank glares.

“Burn!” shouts Ryan. Frank swings his glare onto him. “Go to hell.”

“If y’all will shut up for a sec,” says Sashi good-naturedly, “I’ll finish. Travie, truth or dare?”

“Hmmm.” Travie considers. “Ah hell, dare.”

Sashi drums his fingers on his knee until he thinks of something. A grin spreads across his face. “Ride a tricycle.”

“The fuck you talking about?” says Travie.

“You heard me.”

“Where the fuck do you think I’m gonna get a trike in Ryan’s house in the middle of the night?”

“Mmmph.” Ryan swallows the last of his sandwich. “Neighbors have a four-year-old. Hers is out by the driveway. Borrow hers.”

“Goddamn, boy, I’m not stealing from a four-year-old.” Travie kicks Ryan gently. Ryan rolls his eyes. “I said _borrow_ , dumbass.”

Travie looks at Sashi. “Have you _seen_ me? I hit six feet last year. I’d crush that trike into little pieces.”

“Is this truth or dare, or whiny little bitch? I said ride a trike, motherfucker. Or do you wanna default? What does he get if he defaults?” Sashi looks up at Gabe.

Gabe thinks about it for a second. “Anyone who defaults has to switch for a scene.”

“Oh, gross,” says Ryan. Gabe shrugs. “Do or die.”

“That what you want?” asks Sashi. “If you wanted me to beat your ass, all you had to do was ask.”

The stare Travie turns on Sashi is withering. He stands up to his full height and stalks out to the yard. Sashi snickers. So does everyone else. Gabe considers going to the steps to watch but he’s not sure if his shoes are at the back door or the front, and the concrete is too cold to stand on for any length of time. Then Sisky draws the curtain open and Gabe doesn’t have to worry about it. The window is always covered; for the first few months Gabe knew Ryan he thought it was just an incredibly boring tapestry. Moving the lengths of fabric creates a cloud of dust, but when someone turns the living room light off the mirrored effect cuts out and Travie is easily visible. His knees are about chin level, and the banana seat is probably lodged directly up his ass. He’s not looking at them, but Gabe’s known Travis long enough to picture the scowl on his face. 

The whole thing only gets better when Brendon goes outside, a few steps past the door. He leaves it open behind him. His altered rendition of Queen’s ‘Bicycle’ is loud enough that everyone in the room can hear it. And Travis can hear him too, if the middle finger that’s suddenly raised is any indication. 

The true piece de resistance doesn’t come until about five minutes later. He’s still pedaling back and forth down the block when it happens. One of the low hanging branches Gabe jumps up and hits every time he comes to Ryan’s decides to give up the ghost. An entire limb spontaneously breaks off and falls on Travis. Tricycles are supposed to be child friendly, injury proof. That doesn’t stop Travis from careening off the straight course of the sidewalk, tilting, and toppling over. Gabe can’t stand it. He collapses to the carpet and starts to wail with laughter. He can’t stop even when the door creaks open and he hears the low thud of sneakers hitting the wall.

“Dare fucking complete.”

“Holy shit Travie, that was beautiful,” Gabe chokes between giggles. “That can totally count as your birthday present to me, oh my _God_.”

Travis blows out a deep breath and eyes the group. “Mmmmmm... Chiz. Your turn. Truth or dare.”

Chiz shrugs. “Dare.”

“Oh good.” Travis has an evil look in his eye. “I’d like to remind you of something Butcher said a while back. Gerard was talking about NAs--”

“Like that’s unusual,” snorts Pete.

“And Butcher said he’d rather have you give him a teddy bear and fuck him on a bed covered in rose petals than listen to him again.” Travis smiles. “And Gerard isn’t here. So...”

Chiz looks at him in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would and I do. I dare you to get Butcher a teddy bear and give him some sweet, sweet lovin’. Or if you wanna default, we can have Butcher tie you up and beat you bloody. Up to you, man.” Travis takes a swig of beer and belches.

“You fuck!” Chiz is as close to angry as Gabe’s ever seen him. “We can’t do it that way. I mean, just... ugh.”

“It’s just sex,” Victoria points out. “Only gentler than usual.” Butcher looks like he’s going to be sick. Keltie giggles.

“I want truth,” says Chiz. “Fuck you, I’m doing truth.”

“Don’t wimp out,” says Gabe. “Come on, everyone has to suck it up. Look what happened to Frank.”

“And it wasn’t even Matt’s turn,” Frank grumbles. He punches Matt lightly in the chest.

“Where am I even supposed to get a teddy bear?” Chiz protests.

Apropos of nothing, Pete says “I’m hungry.”

“So get a sandwich,” says Spencer.

“Nah. I want pizza.” Pete grins. “Hey Sisky, go get us some pizzas. Gabe, let Brendon go with him and help him carry them.”

Pizza sounds good to Gabe, even if he did just have a sandwich. “Go forth, minion. Bring me back peppers and double mushrooms.”

Sisky grabs a pen and paper and starts taking orders. Pete’s voice cuts through the babble. “And Chiz. You can drive them. I’m sure you’ll find a teddy bear while you’re out. Check the 7-11.”

“I hate you,” says Chiz.

“Yeah, I know,” says Pete. “Better get your order in so you don’t end up with pineapple and anchovies.”

Well there’s no sense in just waiting for them to get back. It’s a party, he’s not staring at the wall for twenty minutes or more. “Quick! Whoever is my bitch while Brendon is gone, I need like five decks of cards!” No one moves to get them. “Snap to it, subbies!”

Spencer sighs and stands. He fixes Gabe with a glare as he says “I am not your bitch. I just know where everything in this house is.”

“Sure, whatever.” Spencer comes back a few minutes later with a handful of decks. “Thanks, bitch!” Gabe says. To the background noises of Frank giggling and Spencer growling, Gabe snatches the cards only to toss them to Jon, Matt, and Lyn-Z, keeping the last set for himself. “Until the guys get back, we’re playing Spoons. Hey, temporary bitch, where are Ryan’s spoons at?”

“You know what?” Victoria starts. “I’m going to go get them before Spencer punches you in the face.”

“Well, it’s not really a party until there’s blood, right?”

“Then I recommend a knife scene, not forcing Spencer to murder you,” is her parting shot before she leaves for the kitchen and they sort themselves into some semblance of groups. 

As always, Spoons gets properly vicious. It’s one of the great equalising games, Ryan elbowing Keltie out of the way for a spoon just as quickly as Ray mashes Conrad’s hand to claim his. It’s obvious foreplay for Frank and Matt; the longer the game goes the harder they get. Gabe would be willing to bet they will fuck by the end of the night. He’d suggest it out loud, except he’s too busy saying ‘one two three pass’. When Conrad wins the first game they all applaud for a second and then Gabe snatches the cards and starts shuffling. Around the room the other groups are doing the same.

Brendon comes in first. Gabe interrupts his game to bound to his feet and shout “Brendon! Guess what happened when you were gone! I got Spencer to sub for me!”

He’s expecting Brendon to stare at him with horror, like Butcher and Chiz were. Or even to call him an idiot or something. He’s _not_ expecting to see BSF. Gabe fucking hates BSF. It stands for Brave Sub Face, and it’s every situation in which a sub is scared and sad but doesn’t want to show it. Victoria isn’t much for it either, so thank fuck it’s only come up once or twice with Nate. It’s somehow even worse to cause it in someone else’s sub. He backpedals as quickly as he can. “Joking! Joking, for fucksakes. Spencer doesn’t want my dick. He wants yours. Only yours. Stop with the damn face already.”

“I didn’t know I had a face, sir.” Brendon sets his stack of pizzas on the coffee table and turns an uncertain smile on Spencer, who shakes his head and goes over to hug his sub. “He’s joking. He was just being an asshole, as usual. Wanna serve me pizza?” Brendon hugs him back and nods against his shoulder.

Gabe sighs. Sweet fucking Jesus, people are sensitive. “Where’s Chiz?” he says loudly. “Let’s see what he got. Sisky! Get Chizzy in here!”

Sisky comes in carrying three more pizzas. He’s followed by Chiz, who’s wearing a dark scowl and carrying a plastic bag. Butcher drops his face into his hands. “I can’t fucking believe this,” he mumbles.

Chiz sighs and pulls out a wilting bouquet of chilled yellow daisies wrapped in cellophane. “They didn’t have roses,” Sisky explains. “It was the best we could do.”

Pete begins to giggle helplessly. “You aren’t making this any easier,” growls Chiz. Pete waves him over to Butcher and laughs harder. Chiz moves up to Butcher, reaches into his bag, and hands him a four-inch tall teddy bear. It’s holding a heart that reads ‘I Love You Beary Much.’ Frank sees it and bursts into whoops of laughter.

“I am going to kill you all,” Chiz promises. Gabe wipes tears away. “This is the best birthday ever. Okay, you two, go at it.”

“If we have to do this,” says Butcher, “we’re going into the guest room. I’m not fucking out here for you to laugh at me.”

“Fair enough,” says Gabe. “But you need witnesses. I don’t trust you two on your own. Minion!” Brendon rushes over. “Go with them. In fact, hang on. Ryan, go get your guitar.”

Ryan never has to be told twice to play. He runs to his room. “Go ahead,” Gabe says to Chiz and Butcher. “Get started. They’ll be in in a minute.”

“If he doesn’t kill you, I will,” says Butcher.

Ryan’s back in thirty seconds with his guitar. It only takes him a minute to tune it. Gabe whispers in his ear, then in Brendon’s. Brendon laughs out loud. Ryan leads the way to the bedroom and leaves the door open behind them. He strums a chord, and Brendon begins to sing.

“You don't always have to fuck him hard. In fact sometimes that's not right to do. Sometimes you've got to make some love, and fucking give him some smoochies too...”

An agonized groan comes from the bedroom. The entire living room breaks down in laughter.

“Sometimes ya got to squeeze, sometimes you've got to say please--”

The music breaks off as Chiz stomps out, naked and furious and not in the least hard. He holds out his hand, and when Gabe’s slow to understand, smacks him upside the head. “Pills, arsehole.”

Victoria and Pete are sprawled out on the floor, laughing so hard they’re screaming. “Ow,” Sashi moans. “Oh God, I can’t laugh anymore. Make it stop.”

Chiz dry-swallows the pill, gives the room one last glare, and goes back into the bedroom. In a second, the music starts again. “I'm gonna fuck you softly, I'm gonna screw you gently, I'm gonna hump you sweetly, I'm gonna ball you discreetly...”

Gabe’s had some scenes last a long time. When Nate gets his pup on they can spend the whole evening petting him and watching tv. Straight up sex shouldn’t take as long as scene though, everyone knows that. Butcher and Chiz seem to be out to prove that knowledge wrong. Only when Gabe’s beginning to wish Chiz dared someone before disappearing with Ryan and Brendon does he hear the tell tale stutter in Brendon’s song. Brendon’s a total voyeur, his gasp pretty much proves they’re finally doing something.

“It’s too soon,” Carden says around a piece of pizza. “Has to be placebo effect, it shouldn’t kick in for a good half hour.”

“Well for godsake don’t interrupt them to tell him that. He’ll get soft and we’ll have to wait even longer.”

By the time they come out, everyone’s full, Brendon’s failing at hiding his erection, and Chiz and Butcher are furious. Gabe’s never seen an orgasm make someone angry before. “I need a lighter. Now.”

A good third of the room smoke, so it’s an easy request. Travis is the first to get his out, Butcher grabs it almost ferociously. Everyone tracks them as they go to the front door and set the bear on fire on the concrete step.

No one can keep from snickering when they come back in. Chiz pinches Butcher viciously, and Butcher groans in relief. “We are never doing that again,” says Chiz, glaring around the room. He sits down. Butcher collapses beside him.

“Was it really that terrible?” Lyn-Z asks. “Are you traumatized?”

“You have _no_ idea,” grumbles Butcher.

“Sack up,” Gabe says. “You’ll both survive.”

“Hey, Gabe,” says Spencer. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna take Brendon for a little bit. We have some... business to do.”

“Business?” Gabe asks. “Like sexy business?”

Spencer closes his eyes in exasperation. “Since you seem to need it spelled out for you, yes. He’s yours right now, so can I have him?”

“I don’t know.” Gabe eyes Spencer. “Can I trust you with him? Minion, are you going to run away with him and leave me forever? I’m your dom; you have to tell me the truth.”

“If he’ll let me,” says Brendon, hanging off Spencer’s arm.

Gabe shakes his head. “Minions aren’t what they used to be. Go.” He dismisses them with a wave of his hand, and they vanish into the bathroom a second later. “Okay, Chiz. Take your pick.”

Chiz heaves a deep sigh and looks around for a victim. “Mikey. Truth or dare?”

Mikey sits and looks contemplative. After thirty seconds, Nate elbows him. “Answer the question, come on.”

“Okay,” says Mikey. “Okay. Truth.”

Chiz looks disappointed, and Gabe figures he was going to come up with some insane dare to get revenge. “Right,” says Chiz. “Tell us about a scene you did that Gerard knows nothing about. Not just like you had sex with someone, something crazy. Outrageous.” If anyone’s done outrageous, it’ll be Mikey.

Mikey thinks for a second, then gives a little smile. “You have to swear never to tell Gerard.”

“Yeah, yeah. We all swear.”

“Needles.”

Gabe raises his eyebrows at Pete, who grins back. “Needles? Like how?” asks Keltie.

“I was on my back,” Mikey explains. “It was at Imagine, in the basement dungeon, and the Inki-- Inquisitor was trying to get me to confess.”

“Nice,” murmurs Matt.

“He had a bag of hypodermics. Mostly twenty-gauge, but they went up to... mmm, sixteen? I was strapped down on the table, and he took my dick, and--” Mikey mimes pushing a needle in.

“All the way through?” asks Carden. He looks at Mikey with new respect.

“Not through my dick, not straight through,” says Mikey. “Just under the skin and back out. He did ‘em all in a line, like rungs on a ladder. And then he did some in my nipples, the bigger gauge, n’ then he _pulled_...”

“I have got to try that,” says Butcher. He looks at Chiz. “We are so doing that.”

“How’d it feel?” Pete asks.

“I was fly-- fuckin’ flying,” Mikey says. “Spec-tac-u-lar.” He speaks with extra care, and Gabe realizes Mikey’s not just relaxed, but well on his way to being truly hammered.

As the birthday boy, Gabe has executive decision making skills regarding a variety of things. That list definitely includes how much of his booze other people get to drink. His theory has always been being stingy only makes you grumpy, and other people sober. “Everyone with a cup. Pour two shots worth of the nearest bottle into your cup. We all need to catch up to Mikey.”

Mikey raises his hand. “Can I catch up to me?”

There’s no actual logic there, but Gabe is a benevolent man. That or he wants at least three people to get passout drunk, and Mikey is obviously the first candidate. Gabe waves his hand in a wish granted manner. Nate snorts at him, but Mikey judges the motion for what it is and knocks his shots back after Jon pours them for him. Gabe’s pleased to realise the closest open bottle is Skyy vodka. He loves it, it’s only about five hundred times better than the rotgut Phillips Travis and Sashi have. 

Around the room a variety of faces are being made as his friends down whatever they have straight. Gabe wishes he had a camera, but by the time he grabs one everyone will have had their chasers. He’ll just have to wait for the next birthday. 

“Come on Mikey. Let’s get this rollin’ again.”

Mikey focuses in on the nearest moving object, which happens to be Brendon and Spencer coming back from the bathroom. “Spencer Smith!” The S’s are shockingly well pronounced, considering Gabe fully expects Mikey to fall off his perch on the arm of the couch within the next ten minutes. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Gabe would be willing to bet he says it because Brendon is curling against him, and he doesn’t want to leave him. 

“Tell me something you want to give Brendon. Doesn’t haveta be sexy, if you think he needs a Blur discography, or his life would be better with a car... It’s all hypothetical, right?” Mikey burps, and Gabe mentally cuts estimated time of toppling to five minutes.

Spencer sits on the floor and pulls Brendon down with him. “That’s easy. Brendon needs a playdate.”

Brendon looks at him, startled. “I... what?”

“Playdate. Like before. Hey, who wants to play with Brendon? He’s eight, and he likes G.I. Joes and riding his bike.” Spencer looks around, half daring anyone to make fun of either of them.

“I don’t--” Brendon blushes and draws his knees up. “They don’t want--”

“Hi, Brendon!” Victoria slides down the sofa to the floor. “I’m Vicky-T. I’m seven. What grade are you in?”

“Um.” Brendon looks at her cautiously. “Third?”

“I’m in second,” she confides.

“I’m in third grade too,” says Spencer. “Brendon’s my best friend, but Ryan’s my best friend too. I have two best friends.” Keltie nudges Ryan, who scoots up to join them.

“Natey,” calls Victoria. “Natey’s my puppy,” she says to Brendon. “You can pet him if you want. He likes that.” Nate comes barrelling up on hands and knees and launches himself into Brendon’s lap. Brendon falls backward, laughing, and Nate licks his face.

“I want to pet the puppy!” calls Lyn-Z, and tackles Nate, flipping him over to rub his belly. Nate squirms on his back and wags his ass in lieu of a tail.

Gabe’s seen Nate behave like this before, obviously, but never Victoria. Her face is shining, and she bounces as she pets Nate’s head. “I have a secret,” she tells Lyn-Z. “Wanna hear?” Lyn-Z nods eagerly. Victoria-- Vicky-T, he corrects himself-- leans over and whispers into Lyn-Z’s ear. They both look up at Gabe and giggle.

Ah hell. It looks like fun, and no one said the party had to be all sex all the time. Gabe crawls up to them. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” they both say in unison, and giggle again.

“Girls are stupid,” Gabe says to the room at large. Keltie knee-walks up and smacks him on the arm. “Are not!”

“Ow!” Gabe rubs his shoulder. “No hitting! No fair!” He looks around the room for an authority to appeal to.

“Hey,” Travis says. “No hitting, Keltie, or you go in time-out.” Sashi begins to laugh. “What?” says Travis. “Someone has to babysit these kids, motherfucker.”

“Motherfucker!” yells Lyn-Z. “Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker!”

Carden snorts. “Nice one, dude.”

Travie gives him a sharp look. “You fuck this up, Carden,” he says in an undertone, “and you and me are gonna have words, got it?”

“You said the f word again. You’re gonna be in a lot of trouble when our parents come to get us. Or, well. You _could_ get me more fruit rollups, and then I wouldn’t tell on you.”

Travie looks at Carden in disbelief. “Are you asking for a bribe?”

“Fifth graders don’t do anything for free. I need a box by recess tomorrow.”

“Recess!” Gabe holds his hands over his ears as Frank starts leaping around the room, barely missing stepping on people or on Natey, screaming the word recess. He only stops when he trips over Ryan’s legs. The crash doesn’t bother him, he just grins into Brendon’s face. “I LOVE recess. I play tag every recess. What do you play? Too slow. Tag wins!” 

Frank stands and smacks the side of Ryan’s head. “Tag, you’re it. No tag backs!” 

“No hitting Frank, last warning!”

“That wasn’t hitting! That was tagging! But I won’t no more ‘cause Ryan is it!”

Ryan stands. Gabe watches him warily, ready to jump out of the way of a hand. Ryan doesn’t tag anyone though, just puts on his shoes, and tosses Spencer’s pair at him. “I’m counting to five then ready or not!”

The backs of Spencer’s shoes are crushed as he jams his feet into them. That’s when Gabe knows how much this means to him. Spencer _likes_ shoes. But he’s out the front door and Ryan is chasing him. It causes a wave of motion, almost two dozen kids grabbing their shoes as Travis shouts at everyone to put their sweaters on. Sashi and Jon are the only ones that listen.

Not everyone plays. Travis disappears into the garage for a moment and comes out with two lawnchairs for himself and Sashi. Mikey runs for about a minute before tripping on something and refusing to stand again. Matt sprawls out on the lawn and props his chin up with his hands, and Chiz and Butcher sit down beside him.

Sisky’s it, and he runs after Gabe, but Gabe’s legs are longer and Sisky can’t catch up, so he turns around and tackles Ray. “Careful!” calls Travie. Ray gets up, dusts himself off, and grabs Keltie as she runs past. She takes off running after Brendon. Brendon runs, but keeps checking behind him for Keltie, and doesn’t see Nate until it’s too late. He trips and goes flying, hitting the ground with an audible “Oof!”

Keltie stops. She crouches down, then yells “Spencer!”

“What? What? Is he okay?” Spencer races over. Keltie slaps him on the arm and giggles. “Ha ha, you’re it!”

Brendon rolls over and laughs. “Hi, Spencer Smith! I tripped on the dog!”

“You scared me,” says Spencer reproachfully. “I thought you got hurt.”

Brendon gets up. “Nope! I’m okay!” Spencer makes a feint and Brendon dashes away.

They play tag until they’re all wiped out, lying on the grass or the driveway. The alcohol probably has something to do with that, Gabe thinks. He stretches and burps. “What time is it?”

“It’s one.” Travis stands over him. “Are you kids all done?”

“I am.” Jon stands up. “I think I pulled a muscle.”

“I want more beer,” says Conrad.

“Okay, game’s over,” says Gabe. “Let’s go inside. I’m freezing out here.” They troop back in, shoes flying everywhere as everyone gets comfortable again. They’re all flushed and grinning, and Brendon is practically glowing as he crawls into Spencer’s lap. It’s so sweet it makes Gabe’s teeth hurt, like cake with too much sugary frosting. Speaking of, he never did get cake. “Minion!” he calls. “Cake and Jack. And Doritos. Chop chop.”

Brendon gets up and goes to fetch. Spencer’s still grinning. “That was awesome, you guys. Thanks. Okay, let’s see... Hey. Gabe. You haven’t gone yet. Truth or dare?”

“How is that even a question. Dare. Obviously.”

“Decide who has the hottest ass-”

Gabe interrupts. “I clearly said dare, Smith. I can even say it in multiple languages. Reto! Asking me something is a _truth_.”

“If you’d let me finish, asshole, I was gonna say pick the guy with the hottest ass, and then spank him.”

He’s half tempted to pick Carden or Conrad, just to freak them out. It would be hilarious more than sexy, but humour is just as important as orgasms, especially considering he’s already had one. Realistically though, they’d probably bitch out, and even though there are rules to prevent him bitching out, he can’t sexually assault either of them over a game if they really don’t want it. Better to pick someone that’ll let it happen. 

“This is an interactive dare, my friends. You each get one vote. Pete, lift your skirt. Brendon,” he looks around. Brendon’s not back yet, so he raises his voice. “Brendon! When you get back you need to drop your pants!”

Lyn-Z raises her arm. “Pete!”

“He didn’t show off his ass yet.”

“Oh, come on. Guy in jeans getting spanked or guy in a skirt getting spanked. That’s not a hard decision for me.”

Once they’re both in the room and both displayed though, Lyn-Z is in the minority. They both look good on their hands and knees, bared to the majority of the group, but vote after vote comes in for Brendon. Except Mikey, who apparently votes for falling asleep on Sisky’s thigh. Gabe didn’t actually hear Pete offer him as pillow, but he wouldn’t be surprised by it. Pete’s considerate like that.

The truth is Gabe likes being contrary. So after the last vote comes in, Gabe grins and says “Thanks, everyone, for your opinions. Ray, spank Pete.”

“It’s your dare, man.”

“You can be my spanking surrogate. Don’t front, you’ll like it, and I aim to make everyone happy. Also, if you’d direct your attention to the immediate left of me, Brendon brought me cake. The icing is going to get crusty if I don’t eat it soon.”

Pete wiggles. "Come on, quit arguing and get to the spanking already. My ass is getting cold, and I want another piece of cake before it's gone."

“Silence, strumpet,” says Gabe with a lordly wave of his hand. “Ray, if you would be so kind?”

Ray grins and picks up his paddle, which is never far away when he’s at Ryan’s. “Get ready,” he warns Pete. “You’re gonna be feeling this tomorrow.”

“Bring it,” says Pete.

Ray does. He winds up and slams the paddle into Pete’s ass, nearly knocking him on his face. “Ow!” Pete yells. “Okay, okay, maybe don’t bring it so much!”

“You asked for it,” says Ray, “and you’re gonna get it.” He whacks Pete, and Pete yells again. “Motherfucking ow!” He starts to laugh, and Ray hits him again.

“Strumpet?” Victoria asks Gabe. “Really?”

“I’d like to see you come up with a better name.” Gabe puts his hands behind his head and watches Ray work. Pete’s yells soften to moans, and they don’t sound like he’s objecting to the pain. Gabe didn’t think he would. Ray is a master of the paddle, and Pete... well, he may not be as much of a pain slut as Butcher, but who is? In any case, Pete’s clearly enjoying himself.

So is Ray. He’s in his element, with a sub on his hands and knees in front of him and begging for more. He’s a fucking artist, the way he rubs the paddle on Pete’s ass, uses it to push his legs apart and position him, then strikes with it so hard the thump echoes in the room. Pete’s dick is nestled against his belly, harder than Gabe’s ever seen it. He looks over at Sisky, and he can tell that Sisky sees it too.

He’s about to see it a lot closer. “Sisky,” Pete groans. “Get over here.” Sisky quickly displaces Mikey onto Keltie, after a quick glance for permission, then crawls up and reaches under Pete to jerk him off. Gabe shakes his head. Sisky is nothing if not dedicated. No way would Nate react that way, with no chance of getting off afterward. Gabe’s not even sure he’d want him to.

Pete groans his way through an orgasm, and Sisky kneewalks to get the kleenex. Gabe doesn’t need to watch that, so he scans the room. About half the room has already been picked. There are no rules against double picking, but it’s more fun to make sure everyone gets involved. Besides, if everyone does something, everyone has the chance for snarky blackmail Monday at school. Though at this point Gabe can’t see anyone topping Travie being taken out by a tree. That shit was just beautiful.

“Victoria, truth or-”

“Hey, do you really get to ask? I’m pretty sure Pete and Ray fulfilled your dare. Doesn’t that mean Victoria and Nate get to dom you?”

“Frank, I _do_ dom Gabe.” Before Gabe can explain that this is simply not true, Victoria shouts “I pick dare!”

“I dare you invoke the power of the Cobra and-”

Lyn-Z interrupts. “Is that your cock’s name? Because if so, it’s not very accurate. I watched you with Mikey, the head of your cock isn’t that flared.”

Nate snorts. “You really think me and Victoria would let him name his dick? The Cobra’s, like, his own personal God. He’s technically Jewish, but he mostly has decided to believe in a prophetic talking alien Cobra sent from the future to make sure all the doms chillax and the subs learn to enjoy other things in life.”

Lyn-Z seems to think about the information for a moment before saying “No more ludicrous than any other religion, really.”

“Yeah. That’s what we thought. That’s why we haven’t reported him as a potential cult leader to any cops. Though,” Nate throws a glance at Sisky, “apparently we’ve had one in our midst the whole time.”

“Okay, the Cobra wants me to do what?”

“Hypnotise some of these motherfuckers!”

Conrad raises his hand. “Can I be hypnotised into going to sleep? Because it’s almost two, and I’ve been up since seven.”

Gabe hastens to add “Hypnotise all the whiny bitches first, please.”

“Suck a dick, Saporta!”

“Did. And it was delightful. Thanks for the dick, Sisky.”

“Um. Am I supposed to say you’re welcome, or? Because I would, but I think that might have been rhetorical, so. You know what? Whatever’s most mannerly, pretend I did that.”

Gabe snickers. Sisky is obviously pretty drunk too. Not as far gone as Mikey, or Carden, but drunk enough.

“Hypnosis, I can do that,” says Victoria. She looks around the room. “Volunteers? Not you, puppy, I can do you anytime. Give someone else a turn.”

Ryan looks at Keltie, then raises his hand. “What the hell. I don’t think you can hypnotize me, though. I have a very strong sense of self.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Victoria says patiently. “It’s not like I can make you do things that are against your personality or your moral code. It’s just things that you wouldn’t do ordinarily.”

Ryan’s shrug says Whatever, but he comes where Victoria gestures and lets her put him on his back. “Okay, everyone, I need quiet. No laughing, I’m looking at you, Carden and Gabe.  
You can mock him when he’s under.”

Ryan starts to sit up. “I don’t think I want--”

Victoria pushes him back down. “Close your eyes.” Her voice drops into a soothing cadence. “Just keep your eyes closed, and listen to my voice. Relax. Can you hear me?” Ryan nods and rolls his eyes under his lids. Victoria ignores it. “I’m going to count backwards from ten. With each number, you’re going to fall into a deeper sleep. Ten. Relax. Nine. You’re safe here. Eight. Going down, down, down into sleep. Seven. Deep sleep. Six. Listen only to the sound of my voice. Five...”

When she gets to one, the room is silent. “When I say sleep, you’ll come back to this state of total relaxation. You are protected and safe here. Now, I’m going to ask you to open your eyes in a minute. When you do, I want you to look straight up at the ceiling. Do you understand?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ryan murmurs. Gabe’s never seen him so peaceful before. He looks young.

“Open your eyes, Ryan,” says Victoria. He does, and they’re fixed on the ceiling directly above his head. They’re calm and slightly unfocused.

“That’s good,” Victoria says. “Ryan, can you feel your hands?”

“Yeah,” says Ryan.

“Your arms are moving,” says Victoria. “They’re moving slowly up, bringing your hands above your head. Do you feel them?”

Ryan hums assent as his arms move out to his sides, circling to bring his wrists together above his head. “Now your legs,” says Victoria. “You’re not moving them, but they’re spreading wider, as wide as they can go.” Ryan’s legs separate and start to drift apart.

“Holy _shit_ ,” says Frank. “He’s really not doing that?”

“Not consciously,” Nate says. “It feels like your body’s doing it all by itself. Trippy.”

Frank turns around and glares at Matt, who holds up his hands. “I wouldn’t even suggest it.”

“I’m going to count to five,” says Victoria. “When I reach five, you’re going to sit up, feeling rested and relaxed. When I tell you to do something, you’ll follow my instructions. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”

Ryan’s eyes clear and he sits up, hands loosely at his sides. “How are you feeling?” asks Victoria.

“Great,” says Ryan.

“Why don’t you stand up and take off your clothes?” Victoria suggests.

“Okay.” Ryan gets up unselfconsciously and begins to strip. Keltie claps her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. Conrad eyes Carden speculatively.

When Ryan’s naked, Victoria asks him “Are you embarrassed?”

Ryan shakes his head.

“How come?”

Ryan shrugs. 

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“I think you are,” says Victoria. “Sleep.”

She’s there to catch him as he crumples to the floor. “Duuuuude,” says half the room. Ryan’s lying boneless in Victoria’s arms, a small smile on his face. “One, two, three, four, five,” she counts, and Ryan’s eyes open. “What are you doing on the floor, Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” says Ryan. He looks mildly interested.

“Kneel up for me,” says Victoria, and Ryan does. “Put your hands on your thighs.” Ryan does. “Your hands are glued to your thighs,” she says. “No matter what you do, you can’t move them. Go on and try.”

Ryan tugs. His hands won’t move. He stares down at them, vague and confused. He bends his elbows and tries again. No luck.

“I don’t even believe this,” murmurs Sashi.

“I gotta learn this,” Travie says.

Ryan’s still tugging at his hands, which haven’t left his thighs. Victoria touches his shoulder. “Your hands are unstuck. The glue is gone.” Instantly, Ryan’s hands come off his thighs and rest at his sides.

Gabe doesn’t take his eyes off his girl. “You are so hot,” he says. She acknowledges him with a sideways grin. “Now Ryan,” she says, “spread your knees apart.”

Ryan shifts back and opens his knees. “Lube, puppy,” Victoria mutters, and Nate runs to fetch. 

“Hold out your hand,” Victoria says when Nate returns. Ryan does. She squeezes out a liberal amount of lube. “Take that and get yourself wet,” she tells him, and Ryan slides a finger into his asshole without any apparent qualms.

“No fucking way,” Spencer says. “He never does that without whining about it. Ryan, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” says Ryan, puzzled. Another finger joins the first.

Spencer sits back, shaking his head. He looks at Victoria with sudden respect. She smiles at him, then turns her attention back to Ryan. “How does it feel?” she asks him.

“Fine,” says Ryan.

“It’s better than fine,” says Victoria. “This is the most amazing sex you’ve ever had.” Ryan’s eyes roll back in his head, and he moans. His fingers pick up speed.

“You’re finger-fucking yourself, and it’s awesome. Every time you push your fingers inside, it feels like you’ve hit the perfect spot. Go ahead and let us hear it.”

Ryan begins to groan each time his fingers go in. Jon watches, entranced, one hand down his pants. Conrad’s face is unreadable, but his eyes are fixed on Ryan. Travis has Sisky sans shirt on the floor beside him, and is stroking and pinching Sisky’s nipples. Sisky’s eyes are closed, his back arched. Gabe just sits back and grins. No _way_ is Ryan ever this uninhibited. Gabe didn’t know that stick could be pulled out of his ass, but if anyone could do it, his girl could.

“You can’t touch your cock,” says Victoria over Ryan’s increasingly loud noises. “But you’re going to come when I count to four. One. This is the best it’s ever been. Two. You’re going to come so hard. Three. You’re almost there...” Ryan’s face is screwed up, and he’s panting. “Four,” Victoria finishes, and Ryan howls as he shoots his load on the floor in front of him. He gasps for air. Carden applauds.

Victoria snaps her fingers at Nate and points to the floor. Nate’s on it in a second, licking like it’s peanut butter spread on a chew toy. Victoria kneels down beside Ryan. “How do you feel?” she asks him.

“Good,” says Ryan, face dazed.

“I’m glad. Now sleep.” She catches Ryan again, though there’s not as far for him to fall this time, then lays him gently on the floor. Ryan’s all fucked out, loose and pliant. 

She leaves him there resting while Nate cleans up the rest of the come, then lays a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “That was the best sex you ever had. But each time you have sex with Keltie from now on, _that_ will be the best sex you ever had.” She looks quickly at Keltie for approval, and Keltie smiles and gives her a thumbs-up. “Now I’m going to count to ten. When I reach ten, you’ll be fully awake. You’ll be back to normal, but you’ll still feel relaxed and happy. One. Everyone here is your friend. Two. We’re all happy with you. Three. We just had a lot of fun. Four...”

At ten, Ryan’s eyes open. He’s himself again, aware and focused. But he’s more relaxed than Gabe’s seen in months, and the smile on his face isn’t the sardonic grin that’s usually there. “Damn,” says Ryan. “ _Damn._ That was _awesome._ ”

Everyone breaks into spontaneous applause. Victoria stands and curtsies, and Ryan gets up to give her a hug.

“Pete-”

“Don’t even bother. Dare.”

Because Victoria is the best fucking woman on the planet, she comes up with something genius. “Mikey fell asleep and that’s sad. Give him a wake up blowjob.”

“Not saying no, but does it still count if he comes while he’s still asleep? Because he might think my mouth is just a glorious wet dream. It’s happened before.”

“It’s happened before?”

“Brendon, I’m not trying to be a dick, but just because you didn’t have an ‘all orgasms are accepted orgasms’ deal with your Mormon besties, doesn’t mean that no one did. Sometimes you get bored and wanna finger someone.”

Pete pauses a second to make sure he hasn’t hurt Brendon, then crawls to where Mikey is curled up between Keltie’s legs, head resting on one bare thigh where her borrowed skirt is hiked up. Gabe can see the marks Ray left on Pete as he navigates through everyone and his miniskirt moves. He can’t help but wonder how many people in the room are gonna get off on the memory later. Hell, Pete’ll probably get hard the next time he sits on a chair. He grins a toothy smile at Keltie, remnants of chocolate cake in the crevasses between his teeth. “I’ll swallow, so he doesn’t spray on your ankles.”

‘What a gentleman.”

In the end, Pete’s concern proves wrong. Mikey wakes up about halfway through, only for a second. “Whaa? Oh. Hi Pete.” Before Pete can slide off and say hello back, if he even would, Mikey’s head thunks back down, nearly audibly, and he passes out again. 

The next few choices move quickly, all simply accomplished dares. Matt has to braid Ray’s hair, and it’s hard to say who swears more. Keltie has to dance to a song picked at random from Ryan’s iPod. Gabe finds it impressive that she can make Lennon’s Imagine somewhat sexy, and starts a large round of applause. Brendon’s dared to do something no one knows he can do, so he stands on his head and waves his legs in the air until he falls over. 

And then Brendon dares Jon to pick a toy and dictate how two others use it. Gabe has to hand it to him, his prude background has really washed off quite easily. When Jon comes back it’s obvious he’s chosen from Ryan’s loaner chest; the shit that doesn’t work for him but was bought when he was younger for testing and never thrown out. Most people trade their toys for useful ones, if they can be sanitized safely. Gabe’s other friends did things that way, Rob was always buying grab-bags and trading after one failed use. With these friends it’s different. Since everyone is already always at Ryan’s, the general agreement is there might as well be toys they can use. Jon has a rubber whip. “So Butcher and Chiz don’t hate us forever for offending their delicate sensibilities with the romance thing, Chiz is gonna whip Butcher.”

“Oh thank God,” says Butcher immediately. Chiz looks almost as relieved. “What’s that?” he asks, taking hold of the flogger. “Oh. Nice.”

“Let me see,” says Butcher, clambering over him. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna sting like hell. Excellent. Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” Jon says, and it’s obvious he’s thought about this a lot in the two minutes since he got the dare. “Butcher, get your clothes off and put your hands on the wall. Chiz, go practice on a pillow till Butcher’s ready.” It doesn’t take Butcher very long to get in position; Chiz only has time for a few practice strikes before Butcher’s naked and up against the wall, practically whining in his eagerness.

“Hold off,” says Jon when Chiz lifts his arm. “This is my dare, dude. I call the shots.”

“I’m not your sub,” Chiz grumbles.

“Okay. Give him a few on his ass first. Not too hard.”

“I do know how to beat someone,” says Chiz, rolling his eyes, but he follows instructions, whapping Butcher with the flogger so lightly it barely turns his ass pink.

“Now his thighs,” Jon says, “then his back. Just make it blush.”

“Wimp,” says Butcher.

“Shut up, you,” says Jon.

Chiz follows Jon’s instructions to the letter, ignoring Butcher’s bitching, until red streaks start appearing and Butcher quiets down. “How is it?” Jon asks.

“Stings,” says Butcher dreamily. “Fuck yeah.”

 _Hit him hard_ , Jon mouths, and Chiz grins and puts his whole body into the next stroke. Butcher screams. Keltie applauds, and Mikey mumbles something and rolls over. “More of that,” Butcher demands.

Jon shakes his head, and Chiz goes back to medium strength. “I hate you,” Butcher tells Jon.

“You’re just lucky I didn’t pick deerskin,” says Jon. “All sound, no fury. Be nice.”

“Yeah,” says Chiz. “Shut up before he tells me to stop.” Butcher falls silent, and Jon nods for Chiz to lay into him again. This time he lets it go on for longer before stopping him.

They play it like that for another twenty minutes, long periods of average force punctuated with intensity, and by the end of it Butcher’s flying higher than he’s been in a long time. “I love you all,” he says, giggling, and a few minutes later he goes limp and collapses. Jon’s there to ease him to the floor, and Chiz is over a second later.

“Awesome,” breathes Brendon. He looks pleadingly at Spencer.

“Another time,” says Spence. Gabe figures it’s gonna be a _long_ time before Spencer’s up for that. He doesn’t see him as the deeply sadistic type.

“Nate, you haven’t gone yet, right? Truth or-”

“Gabe and Victoria would shun me forever if I didn’t pick dare.”

“True facts.”

“Okay then. Uh. Hmm. Okay, so Gabe has been kind enough to let us know a few times in case we forgot that it’s his birthday.” Most of the room snickers. Gabe holds up his arm and does a slow wave so the entire room gets flipped off. “Not saying he hasn’t had fun with, uh, think the tally’s at Sisky and Mikey, and jerking off to Frank? But bottom line, the real love is with Victoria and Nate.”

“Always my crew.” Gabe knows they know that. They wouldn’t have given him that gift if they didn’t know that he loved them more. Still, it never hurts to say it.

“So, Nate, dare you to stay silent as a mime as they fuck you. No cheating with gags or biting your arm.”

Gabe snickers as he joins Victoria in pouncing on Nate. His pup isn’t good at quiet, it’ll be a fun game to try to make him break. And if he does, as per his earlier rule, Nate’s punishment is domming Victoria. It’s really a win-win situation.

All three get out of their clothes in less than five seconds. Victoria grabs the lube, squeezes some onto her fingers, and tosses it to Gabe. They have no qualms about doing this in public. Hell, if school would let them, they’d do it out on the quad to see how many spectators they’d get.

Victoria lies down, and Nate kneels in between her legs, with Gabe behind him. With the ease of long practice, Gabe fingers Nate open, while Nate slides into Victoria. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, and when Gabe begins to fuck Nate, Victoria swallows his instinctive moan.

“Not fair,” says Jon. His hand is in his pants again; Gabe can see it over Nate’s shoulder. “You’re not allowed to help him stay quiet.”

“Fuck you,” Victoria breaks off long enough to say, “I can kiss my sub when I feel like it.” She pulls Nate’s head down to hers and kisses him long and hard. When Nate comes up for air, Gabe drives in hard, pushing him into Victoria, who squeaks and giggles. 

Nate’s obviously having trouble. He holds his breath and closes his eyes, but Gabe knows how good he can make Nate feel, and he takes perverse pleasure in pushing him as far as he’ll go. With Gabe on top and Victoria squirming underneath, Nate finally gives up and groans out loud. “Hah!” says Gabe, and starts fucking Nate in short, hard strokes. Nate might as well make noise now; he’s lost the dare anyway.

Nate makes all the noise he wants, but Victoria still comes first. She stuffs her fist into her mouth and screams around it, her body bouncing up and down and shuddering. She can come for ten minutes at a time if they keep at it. Gabe eases off Nate so he’ll last longer, and thinks unsexy thoughts to counteract the noises Victoria’s making.

Eventually, though, Gabe figures she’s had enough and it’s his turn. He drives into Nate hard, and while Victoria lies panting under both of them, first Nate comes, then Gabe. Gabe slithers down to lie bonelessly on the floor. Nate flops in between them with a tiny moan. “Hah,” Gabe says. “You lose.”

“In whose book is coming losing?”

“In the book of truth or dare rules. Do I have to remind you what’s next?” His dick is too sensitive to grab in preparation of Nate taking Victoria down, but with extreme effort he sits up. He wants to watch with the best possible view, so he can jerk off to it later.

The hand that slaps his face comes out of nowhere. It’s not pain that pushes Gabe into silence, it’s sheer surprise. Nate relaxes back onto the carpet and says “Lyn-Z, truth or-”

It’s Nate acting like everything is normal and cool and fine and just handy dandy that breaks Gabe’s quiet. “You were supposed to dom _her_!”

Victoria is rolling her eyes. Well, her eyelids are closed, but Gabe can hear in her voice that if they were open she’d be rolling her eyes. “You're the one that makes a big deal about being the alpha, sweetheart.”

Fuckin’ logic. Gabe wants to snap at everyone that’s laughing, but that would be being a poor sport. Instead of shouting and being a completely aggressive dom with wounded pride, like he’s a fuckin Leto or something, he settles for a sulk. “I hate you all.”

Nate snorts. “You just came in my ass. Your life isn’t that hard.”

It’s possible his pup has a point. He’s still getting smacked around with a newspaper the next time they scene.

“Right, so, Lyn-Z. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Worst slash best missed opportunity. Like, something sexy you didn’t get to do that would have been fucking amazeballs. Turning down an invite to a party or something. Good call, by the way, coming to this third birthday of Gabe’s.”

“The second was not a birthday, it was a get poor Gerard drunk party. To clarify.” Gabe refuses to claim a party with such down information as his birthday.

Lyn-Z sighs. “Ugh. I could still kick my own ass, seriously. So back at my old school, I had nearly all girl friends. Not that they turned out to be friends, but whatever, not gonna start that rant right now.”

“You have more control than Gee then,” Travis commends.

“So we’re going to this one party, and I get picked up first. It’s me and Beth, and I call shotgun, right?”

“Obviously,” Frank and Victoria say simultaneously.

“So I’m sitting in the front with Monica, and she’s driving around picking up everyone else even remotely related to our group. The seven seat van ends up with about fifteen people in it, all heading for Kelly’s. And there I am in the front seat, alone cause I have the map because no one is getting reception to check their cells. And there Amy Lee is in the back, with an exhibitionism slant as wide as a mile is long, in a pinstripe skirt and mid-calf laceup boots, and fucking lace pantyhose. And there Beth is, sitting on her lap, not grinding against her knee, not even making out with her, because Beth has a hairless slant, and only has sex with guys or girls shaved bald. Moral of the story? Calling shotgun means no sex for you.”

“Sisky, get Mikey off me, would you? I wanna go get something.”

“Not that I'm complaining but we've moved Mikey three times. Can we just stick him in a bed?”

Conrad sighs. “Can we stick me in a bed? I'll even fuckin' cuddle. I’m fucking exhausted guys.”

“Just lemme do this thing first, and then we’ll all crash.” With Sisky’s aid, Keltie gets out from under Mikey and disappears into Ryan’s bedroom. She comes out in a pair of patterned stockings, her borrowed kilt hiked up until it barely covers the garter belt holding them. “Yes?” She twirls around and flashes the room.

“Oh.” Lyn-Z’s mouth falls open. “Oh. _Yes._ ” Keltie beckons, and Lyn-Z scoots over beside her.

“Lay down,” says Keltie. Lyn-Z arches an eyebrow. “You do know my orientation’s undecided yet, right?”

“Trust me. It’s not a dom thing, and you’ll like it. Here, on your stomach. Yeah.” Keltie brushes the hair off the back of Lyn-Z’s neck and flips up her skirt. “Ooh, white cotton panties. Very cute. If you lift up, I’ll get these off.”

Lyn-Z arches her back and lifts her hips, and Keltie slides the underpants down to her ankles. “Perfect.” She crawls back up beside Lyn-Z’s hips and rests her fingertips on her ass, digging her nails in ever-so-slightly, and draws the hand down her thigh.

“Oh.” Lyn-Z’s tone is awed. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh.” Keltie smiles and does it on the other side. “Nnnnnnn,” Lyn-Z whimpers. Keltie follows it with a brush of her palm down each side. She pushes Lyn-Z’s legs together and straddles them, rubbing her stockings against her skin.

“You’re right,” gasps Lyn-Z. “I do like this.” Keltie lifts up enough to brush her kilt against the back of Lyn-Z’s knees, and Lyn-Z stifles a moan. Keltie draws her nails down Lyn-Z’s thighs again, and this time the moan is loud and clear.

Up and down, back and forth, Keltie plays with her nails, her skirt, her stockings, until Lyn-Z’s trembling and grinding against the floor. “If you’re waiting for permission,” she gasps, “you have it, go ahead, it’s yours.”

Keltie gets up and lets Lyn-Z spread her legs. She bends down and licks at the crease between’s Lyn-Z’s body and thigh, then at the other. “Go,” growls Lyn-Z, and Keltie laughs and laps her tongue between her labia. 

Keltie might be in a relationship with a boy, but she’s had plenty of experience giving head, and Lyn-Z’s the first person she’s been able to use her skill with in quite a while. She’s still got it, according to the sounds everyone hears.

“Pete,” says Victoria. “Get over here.”

“What?” asks Pete.

“No, not me, you idiot.” Victoria gestures to Lyn-Z. Pete gets it, crawls up to where she’s lying and puts her head on his knee. Lyn-Z grinds her cheek into Pete’s skirt, and her moans come louder. From between her legs, Keltie gives a thumbs-up. When Lyn-Z begins to buck against her mouth, it’s pretty clear that it’s almost time, and when she screams and doesn’t stop, and her whole body is shaking, Keltie drives her tongue against her clit even harder.

Gabe doesn’t time it, but Lyn-Z’s orgasm rivals Victoria’s in length and intensity. The noise is enough to wake Conrad from his doze, and Sashi claps his hands over his ears.

“You are so fucking hot,” Ryan breathes.

“Thanks bitch. You should work on tasting as good as she does.” 

“Can we sleep now? I mean, yay Keltie for making Lyn-Z come, but seriously. Sleep.” Conrad punctuates his question with a yawn, and Gabe would scowl at him for being a party pooper, but the yawn is contagious and runs through half his friends.

“K, first things first. Anyone planning on getting a cab home, or calling their parents?” Ryan waits a second, interprets the silence as a no, and continues. “Okay then. My dad’s got a queen bed, so it can tightly fit four. Unless anyone objects, I think me, Keltie, Spencer, and Brendon would work best.”

Gabe can see that. Ryan would feel just as comfortable against Spencer as Keltie, and it’s not like Brendon’s gonna leave his side.

“And like everyone in this room knows, the guest room is another queen. So Gabe and Nate and Victoria can share that.”

“Pass! I wanna be part of the living room sleepover.” Judging from the glare Victoria gives him, she doesn’t agree that sleeping on carpet surrounded by friends is better than in a bed with her boyfriends. But she doesn’t say she’ll take the bed anyway, which is all that matters.

“Uh, okay then. Uh, Pete, if you wanna share with Sisky and Mikey?”

Gabe snorts, an undertone to Pete loudly disagreeing. “I don’t really sleep. And Mikey drools, plus I don’t wanna carry him. Pick someone else.”

“Oh for fuck- Look, there’s a queen bed in the guest room and mine is a twin, and if anyone has sex in it I’m going to hit them. You guys decide.”

“Oh, then Conrad and Carden should share your bed. They’re way too stupid to just get over their shit and give each other handjobs.” Frank smirks. It’s a sign of how tired Conrad really is that he doesn’t flip him off.

In the end Travis and Sashi claim one of the beds, and Frank and Matt the other. Gabe doesn’t say anything, but makes a mental note to check Travis for come in the morning. It’s past midnight, Travis now belongs to William. Everyone heads off for their respective beds, except Ryan, who raids the linen closet for anything remotely pillow or blanket-like.

It’s only when Gabe is sprawled on the floor, A shape with Victoria so their heads share the same appropriated couch cushion but Nate has room between their feet, that something occurs to him. “Travie! Come tuck me in!”

“Fuck off!”

“Follow your slant and take care of me, motherfucker!”

There’s a moment of silence before Gabe can hear Travis stomping down the hall. Heavy movements or not, he still kneels and makes sure the blanket is tucked under Gabe’s sides, and even kisses him on the forehead. “You’re the best!”

“Damn skippy, kiddo.”

Gabe settles and waits for the first person to say something. Lights off blankets on hardly ever actually means sleeping. Sure enough, Lyn-Z speaks up. What she says is surprising though. “Wait. Guys? Carden didn’t get a turn.”

“Ask now,” Jon suggests. 

She asks, and Carden hesitates. Gabe doesn’t blame him. Dare will probably involve getting up, but truth is most likely going to be something aggravating about Conrad. 

Carden sighs. “Fine. Dare.”

Gabe can hear the satisfaction in Lyn-Z’s voice. “Give everyone a goodnight kiss. With teeth. I wanna see evidence in the morning.”

“Aw, fuck. Everyone?”

“Everyone. Better start now or you’ll never finish before sunrise.”

Carden grumbles, but throws off his blanket and gets up. “If you don’t consent, speak now. I wanna get this over with.” There’s silence. “Super.”

Gabe can follow Carden’s progress around the room by the sounds. He starts with Butcher, who moans happily, then does Chiz, Pete, and Sisky as quick as he can. Mikey doesn’t even mumble in his sleep when Carden sucks on his neck. Ray grumbles but lets Carden do it, Victoria laughs, and Nate yips.

When it’s Gabe’s turn, he tilts his head back and lets Carden at his throat. The scrape of teeth on his skin makes Gabe shiver. Best birthday ever.

Carden gets up and goes through the bedrooms, stumbles back into the living room, and falls on his knees by his pillow. “Hold on,” says Gabe.

“I _know,_ ” says Carden. “I’m doing it.” There’s a moment of quiet, then a sharp yell that’s cut off by a hand over mouth. Conrad. Gabe chuckles. “Sleep tight, Tommy boy.”

The chatter that goes on for the next timeless bit is interrupted by a ring. Gabe recognises it the ringtone. Unless someone in the room has recently gotten a ACDC tone, it’s Pete’s phone. There are a number of people that could be calling so late; the hazard of doing nearly everything in a club with strangers is sometimes they want to see you at awkward times. When Pete’s answer is ‘at Ryan’s, why do you care?’, Gabe’s suspect pool narrows to two.

“I know it’s four am, that’s why I was sleeping.”

“Okay, no I wasn’t. But I could have been.”

“Full name? Seriously? Going to a birthday party is not a full name offense!”

There’s no question about it. Everyone in the room is listening, aside from Mikey. Gabe wouldn’t be surprised if Keltie was straining her ears to listen in from down the hall. Pete’s not exactly making it difficult, his voice is rising with each sentence.

“Permission!”

Gabe huffs a smirk into Victoria’s neck. Pete is just as likely to ask permission from his parents to do anything as Frank would be. The difference is Frank takes hard satisfaction from pissing off his Dad, Pete just gets confused and offended when his parents get mad.

“Are you goddamn serious?” Pete sighs loud enough to rattle windows. “Can you at least come pick me up, since you’re being so shitty and lame?”

Apparently they’re demanding he come home, since he didn’t ask to go out. Gabe’s grateful none of his moms are so ridiculous. It’s after four, and Pete’s been drinking, how do they expect him to get home?

“Fine!” Pete shouts, and moments later Gabe hears a thunk he would be willing to bet anything was Pete throwing his phone. Between last week and this week it’s on the verge of being a trend. Not Gabe’s though. He loves his phone, he would never harm it. 

“Where’s the tequila? If I have to walk home I’m at least gonna do it stinking drunk.”

Victoria’s hair momentarily lifts onto his face as she sits up. “I’m basically sober, I’ll drive you home.”

“Shotgun,” Gabe calls automatically.

“Did you learn nothing from my story?” Lyn-Z asks.

“Pete can sit on my lap if it’s that important to him,” says Gabe.

“Motherfuck,” Pete growls, stumbling toward the door with shoes in hand. “They could at least give me a couple hours to take a nap. Bastards.” Gabe follows, yawning.

In the minivan, Pete does insist on sitting in Gabe’s lap. “Only if I get to take my pants off,” says Gabe.

“Like I’d object to you without pants,” Pete says.

“I might,” says Victoria, shifting into reverse.

Somehow they get situated, Gabe’s jeans unzipped and Pete’s underpants around his knees. Victoria drives carefully, stopping all the way at each stop sign and looking both ways. She got a ticket a couple months back, and she’s been hypervigilant for cops ever since. Gabe doesn’t mind. He’s in no hurry to get Pete off his lap. Neither is Pete. “Take the long way,” he orders, letting his head fall back against Gabe’s shoulder. 

Pete’s house is only a couple miles from Ryan’s, but Victoria drives around to the other subdivision exit, which puts them another mile and a half from Pete’s. Pete grinds against Gabe, and Gabe slides a hand under Pete’s t-shirt and tweaks a nipple. “You’re cute when you’re a bad boy,” says Gabe into Pete’s ear.

“I’m cute no matter what,” says Pete. “You know you want this ass. You jerk off thinking about my ass.”

“I jerk off thinking about anyone’s ass,” Gabe says. 

“You said mine was the best,” Pete points out. “Mine beat Brendon’s. That’s a pretty high compliment.”

“I just wanted to see Ray spank you,” says Gabe, rolling Pete’s nipple between his fingers. “I like hearing you swear.”

Victoria pulls up at Pete’s house far too soon. The porch light is on; his parents are standing there with matching scowls on their faces. It’s the same scowl that’s on Pete’s. He opens the door and slides off Gabe’s lap with his pants still down.

Pete spreads his arms wide as if to say ‘Here I am!’ then turns and tugs on Gabe’s hand. “Get out of the car. No, don’t zip up. Come around to the front.” He leads Gabe to the headlights, bends over, and puts his hands on the hood. 

Gabe’s had sex with a lot of people in a lot of places, but never up against a car with the person’s _parents_ watching. “Pete, this probably isn’t--”

“Fuck me,” says Pete. “Right now, goddammit. They want me to come home, they can fucking well wait till I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.”

Gabe’s eyes meet Victoria’s through the windshield. She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t appreciate being used to make a point,” says Gabe.

“That’s bullshit,” Pete says.

Gabe has to admit that’s true. “Fine,” he says, and pulls his dick out of his pants. He’s half hard anyway after the ride over, and it only takes a couple of strokes to get fully erect.“But we got no lube.”

“Then use spit. Dammit Gabe, get your dick in my ass before I bend you over and fuck _you._ ”

Insulted, Gabe pushes Pete against the hood of the minivan and thrusts in as far as he can. The precum helps, but not much. Pete presses his cheek against the hood and gives a pained grunt, but growls out “More.” Gabe sets his teeth against the chafing and begins to pump.

He has to admit, this is pretty damn hot if you ignore the parents up on the porch, and he’s trying very hard to do that. Gabe balances with one hand on the scorching hood, the other wrapped around Pete’s hip and pulling him back against his body. Pete pants harshly, muscles standing out in the glow of the headlights. Gabe reaches for Pete’s dick and strokes it in sharp, quick motions. “Fuck,” groans Pete. “Oh God, fuck me. Harder.”

Getting off is all well and good, but it still makes Gabe feel weird to be Pete’s instrument in the ongoing fight against his parents, weird enough that Gabe races to orgasm as fast as he can. He pulls out and lets it hit Pete in the back, drip down his ass to his thighs. A second later Pete comes, spraying onto the grille of the van.

Pete straightens up. “Thanks. Happy birthday, man.”

Gabe pulls his pants back up. “Thanks. Great party.”

“Fuck yeah,” Pete grins. “See you Monday?”

“All right. Go get some sleep.”

Pete snorts and leaps the curb to walk up the lawn. Gabe snakes into the car so he doesn’t have to see what happens next. He’s pretty sure Pete’s parents are pissed the fuck off. Pete’s probably grounded for like the next two weeks.

Victoria yawns as she makes a U-turn. “He’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah,” says Gabe. He’s suddenly very, very tired. “Well, we’re all a little crazy. He’s just a little bit more than the rest of us.”

When they pull up outside Ryan’s house, the sky is beginning to lighten, and the breeze cuts through their jackets as they walk to the front door. Gabe stretches and pulls Victoria to him. “I hate seeing the sun come up. Bet I fall asleep before you do.”

“It’s not a race,” says Victoria, but she snuggles into his side. “Asshole.”

“Love you too, babe.” Gabe kisses her nose.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Thanks.” God, he loves his crew.

**Author's Note:**

> **Bonus content:**
> 
>  
> 
> [The happy triad.](http://pics.livejournal.com/inlovewithnight/pic/000pedr3)
> 
>  
> 
> [Brendon singing “Fuck Her Gently.”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMh48Au1CLQ)
> 
>  
> 
> The authors would like to note that we saw both of these after we wrote the story. We are deeply amused.


End file.
